


Pleasing Daddy

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Series: Kinktober2018 [7]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cursed Hyperion Heights, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hyperion Heights, Kinktober 2018, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Praise Kink, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 06:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16321028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: He may not be perfect, but Daddy usually knows what his baby girl needs before she does. And she'll do anything for his attention.





	Pleasing Daddy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeddaGab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeddaGab/gifts).



> Date Written: 12-16 October 2018  
> Word Count: 4663  
> Written for: Kinktober 2018  
> Recipient: RumpledRegina  
> Prompt: Day 7 - Praise Kink  
> Summary: He may not be perfect, but Daddy usually knows what his baby girl needs before she does. And she'll do anything for his attention.  
> Spoilers: Canon divergent AU of S7 where Weaver and Roni have been having a sort of secret relationship in Hyperion Heights this whole time. Everything else we know about the characters is totally up for grabs. This particular fic takes place nebulously between "Sweet and Tangy" and "his for the takin".  
> Warnings: No standard warnings apply.  
> Series: Sweet and Tangy  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo  
> Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/  
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…  
> Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "Once Upon a Time," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Adam Horowitz, Edward Kitsis, Kitsis/Horowitz, and ABC Studios. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Once Upon a Time," ABC, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: Okay, so this fic ended up being more of a labor of love than I _ever_ expected it to be. It was supposed to be a sweet and sexy little bit of praise kink fic, but it turned angsty and kind of intense really quickly. And then the muses would _NOT_ shut up about it. I was starting to pull out my hair and get anxious af about it because I feared it would never end. But it taught me a lot about the dynamics between Roni and Weaver and their relationship, so I guess it was a good thing in the long run? And the Fleetwood Mac song? Yeah, it just felt _right_ for them somehow.
> 
> Dedication: My muses, as usual…
> 
> Beta: I am eternally grateful to Mimi, Jessa, Jo, and Anam for helping me whip this beastie into shape.

" _When you look at me with those brown eyes_  
_What do you want to say_  
_And are you just another liar_  
_Will you take me all the way_ "  
\-- "Brown Eyes" [C. McVie]

 

It's Sunday night. Roni will be closing down the bar early, like she's done every week outside of special occasions like the Mariners going on to the World Series or the Seahawks going to the Superbowl. In the long run, it rarely happens, and it allows her the opportunity to carve out a few uninterrupted hours to go over the books and make sure everything's running smoothly.

But not tonight. Tonight, is different. Hell, this entire week has been different. As soon as Syl and Mari finish up and clock out, Roni is going to head upstairs and take a long, hot shower and relax until she gets pruny. When the water turns cold, she'll slip into her warmest, most comfortable sweats and her hoodie before curling up on the couch to binge the _Nightmare on Elm Street_ movies with a six-pack and a large meat lover's pizza until she passes out on the couch.

The girls are still in back finishing up when she hears the door opening and groans. "Sorry, we're closed. O'Rourke's down the street is open still."

"Oh, I'm sure you can make an exception for me."

"Da-- Detective Weaver," she says, covering the slip as smoothly as she can. "What a pleasant surprise. Where's your shadow tonight?" She watches as Weaver walks further into the building, stopping at the bar with a quirked brow. "They're finishing up in the back. Care to join me for a drink?"

"I never say no to free liquor, Roni, you know that."

"Who said it's free?" she sasses back, reaching under the bar for another glass to pour him a generous three fingers' worth.

He quirks a brow at her, voice dropping to a rumbling growl as he says, " _I_ said so, girl. And if you know what's best for you, you'll keep them coming until I tell you to stop."

That possessive tone is a punch to the gut, freezing Roni in place. It's only her years of practice behind the bar that keeps her from letting the glass crash to the floor, but she can't move for the span of several heartbeats. She swallows reflexively, licks her lips, and drops her gaze as she sets the glass on the bar top in front of him. Glancing furtively toward the back where her employees are still working, she whispers, "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."

"Now that's my good girl," he murmurs just loud enough for her to hear over the music still playing.

She hazards a glance up at him, takes in the quirked brow and the smirk curling up his lips before he sips at his whiskey. Without realizing it, she swallows half a second behind him. Suddenly parched, she reaches for her own shot glass and tosses back its contents, then pours herself another that goes down just as quickly and smoothly.

"Slow down, girl," he says as she reaches for the bottle to fill her glass again. "Don't you have paperwork to do tonight?"

"No."

"No? Then why close up early tonight? Why not stay open and make a little extra money?"

"Because it's been an absolutely shit week and I'd really fucking like to just forget about everything for one god damned night, okay? Is that fucking all right with you?"

The words are barely out of her mouth when the shock of _what_ she's said and to _who_ hits her. Her eyes fly to his face, lungs freezing in her chest as she tries to determine his reaction. His brows furrow closer together, lips pursing in that displeased look that sends an ache down into her soul. _Fuck!_

"Daddy, I--"

He raises his hand, cutting off her words. His hand stays up as he stares at her. Roni does her best to stay still and hold his gaze, unwilling to call any further unwanted attention or punishment on herself, despite her fervent desire to look away from that disappointment on his face. His lips part as if to speak, but the sudden sound of Syl and Mari coming toward the bar stops him, and he looks toward them as he takes a healthy swallow of his drink.

"Hey, boss lady," Mari says brightly. "We got everything washed up and the trash is out. Anything else you need before we beat feet?"

Roni licks her lips and offers them a tight smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "No, that should be it. Have a good rest of your night. I'll see you both tomorrow at some point, I'm sure."

Mari nods and heads on, but Syl stops and tilts her head to the side to study the two of them. "Everything copacetic, Roni?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Weaver was just giving me another dressing down for not locking the door again. It's all good. You head home and spoil that daughter of yours. I'll probably be here tomorrow morning when you come in, finishing up the paperwork."

"Sounds good. Lemme know if you need me to come in early at all. Kid's got swim practice before school, so I'll be up."

"Will do. Have a good night, Syl."

Syl nods at both of them, then heads out. Roni moves to follow her and lock the door, but Weaver holds up his hand again once Syl is behind them. He follows Syl to secure the front door, then faces her again. "You stay right there, girl, while I take care of the back door. If you move, you get punished."

"Yes, Sir," she murmurs, gaze dropping again as he wanders past her.

For the next few minutes, she stands there with only the strains of Fleetwood Mac's "Brown Eyes" playing on the jukebox. She finds herself lost in the lyrics, eyes closing to just breathe deeply and try to formulate an apology for her earlier outburst. He didn't deserve to be treated like that. He's been so good to her.

The sudden sensation of a hand landing sharply against her ass pulls her out of her thoughts with a loud _Fuck!_ She turns to punch whoever hit her, eyes growing wider as she registers Weaver's dark chuckle. He reaches up to wrap a hand around the wrist of her raised arm, hindering her movement as the heat radiates out from where he slapped her.

"Problems, girl?"

"N-No, Sir. I was just startled. I, uh, I'm sorry about before. I accept any punishment you choose to give me."

"Under normal circumstances, I would punish you severely for that," he says, still holding her wrist, though not as tightly now. "But it's clear by your body language, both then and now, that you've been under a great deal of stress. Why didn't you tell me?"

She frowns and drops her gaze with a sneer. "Because I should be able to handle the shit storms when they come. I shouldn't have to depend on you to fix my issues with the Victoria Belfreys of the world."

His lips curl up in a smirk, but his eyes are kinder than she expects as he inclines his head a bit. "No, but you _do_ remember that I have a way of dealing with her that doesn't make you look weak. You just need to say something, Roni."

"I know," she whispers. "I'm sorry."

"How long you do need to do your paperwork?" His question startles her and she frowns until he clarifies. "Do you think you can finish it in the next hour while I go upstairs and cook you something healthier than you're likely planning to eat?"

"I--" She feels her cheeks heat up as her voice cracks on that single word. "I think so?" And then her tone changes to a more belligerent one. "And you don't know what I was going to eat."

"Don't sass me, girl, or that punishment is back on the books."

"Sorry, Daddy."

"Now, answer my question. Can you finish the paperwork in an hour?"

She scrunches up her nose as she thinks about it. "If I save the ordering for tomorrow, I probably can? Deposit's already done. It's mostly just the weekly receipts reconciliation and scheduling for next month."

"How long with the ordering?" He lets go of her wrist now, trailing his fingers up to wrap lightly around the back of her neck and start massaging. She moans softly at the sensation, feeling some of her tension start to bleed off. "How long, girl?"

"Probably another hour?" Her stomach suddenly rumbles, and her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"Go do your receipts and scheduling. If you need more than an hour, I expect you to text me with a valid reason why you're going to be late, as I will have your dinner ready for you exactly one hour after I head up to the loft. If you are late without a valid reason, you will be punished. Do you understand, girl?"

"Y-Yes, Daddy."

"That's my good girl." He smiles and leans in to press a soft kiss to her lips. "Run along now and do your paperwork. You have one hour."

*****

Roni works diligently and smiles when she finishes, glancing at her watch to see that she's actually finished fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. She sends a quick text to Weaver, biting her lip in anticipation of his reply.

           _Just finished up with paperwork. May I come upstairs now or must I wait?_

She does a quick glance around the office and the bar itself, making sure everything is cleaned up and ready to go for the morning. The last thing she does is shut off the jukebox. That's when his reply comes in.

           _Such a speedy girl you are. There won't be any errors, will there?_

A jolt of pride and arousal shudders through her at his praise.

           _No, Daddy. I double checked everything._

She's perusing the bottles of booze in the store room when her phone buzzes.

           _Then come upstairs. You can grab a quick shower before dinner. I have wine breathing up here._

She puts the whiskey back and makes for the staircase, stopping long enough to send a quick _Thank you, Daddy_ to him, then takes the stairs two at a time, excited to see him and eat whatever he's making. She's learned over the years just how fantastic a cook he is, and it's a true treat when he chooses to grace her with his culinary skills. Stepping into the loft, the scent of spices and tomatoes hits her nostrils and she takes a deep breath before moaning out her exhale. His chuckle wafts over to her as she actually closes the door and tugs off her boots. She wanders over to the kitchen in stocking feet to press a kittenish kiss to his cheek.

"That smells so good," she purrs.

He chuckles and offers her a slice of red bell pepper. "I'm glad you approve. The salad is in progress, as you can see," he says, gesturing to the cutting board and the knife in his hand. "The main course is still cooking and dessert is setting in the fridge." He glances at the timer on the stove. "If you take a quick shower, you should be done just as dinner is coming out of the oven." When she nods and starts to walk away, he grabs her wrist lightly. "Let your hair dry naturally, girl, and wear your most comfortable clothes for bed. Remain barefoot if you think you won't get too cold."

Roni pauses for a moment before nodding. "Yes, Daddy. I'll be back in a bit."

"Good girl. You know what to do to make me proud."

The surge of pride at his words has Roni practically bouncing toward the bathroom. She showers quickly, using the rosemary and mint shampoo and conditioner that she knows he loves, as well as the Dr. Bronner's peppermint liquid castile soap. Her final rinse is in cold water, adding to the delicious shivery tingle from all of that peppermint oil on her skin, and she's glad that she took the time to get waxed the other day. She dries off and bends over to towel off her hair, then runs a pick through it to ensure there are no tangles. She pads into the bedroom to moisturize, then slips into her favorite black tank top, boxers, and the oversized hoodie that hangs nearly to her knees. Choosing to forego slippers or socks, she steps out into the hall and makes her way to the kitchen just as she watches Weaver straighten and set one of her cake pans on the stovetop. That spicy, tomato-y scent is stronger and combines with the tang of melted cheese, making Roni's mouth water.

"Fuck, that smells good!" It takes a few seconds and his raised eyebrow for her to realize she's done more than just think the words. "Sorry, Daddy. You know I love it when you cook for me."

"That I do." He smirks as he turns to face her. "It's the only way I can guarantee you won't overdo the bar food."

Roni pouts at that, going so far as to stamp her foot and cross her arms over her chest. "I don't overdo the damned bar food! The booze? Sure, but it's my fucking bar. I work out regularly and I eat well, even if I do indulge in crap sometimes." She sighs suddenly and scrubs at her face. "And I did it again. I'm sorry, Amos, you don't deserve that."

He clears his throat and steps closer to her. She tenses and drops her gaze, expecting to be punished for her outburst, maybe for using his given name. She's not sure which has garnered it, maybe both, but she does know that she has displeased him. The urge to cry is strong, but she grits her teeth and forces herself not to. It will just make things worse now. She can cry later, once he's punished her and left her alone. But instead of a reprimand or any sort of punishment, she feels herself being pulled into a hug. Without thought, she fights it at first, still certain it's somehow related to her punishment.

"Roni, stop." His words are soft, murmured directly into her ear. Strong arms wrap around her, one holding her close at the waist, the forearm of the other resting along the line of her spine as his fingers curl up into her hair to cup the back of her head and scratch lightly. "Quit being so damned prickly and let me help you."

"Why?" she whispers, voice thick with unshed tears. She refuses to be that weak in front of him before she's even gotten her damned punishment. He hates weakness, she knows he does.

"Roni…" His voice gets the tiniest bit harder, has that thread of disappointment woven in, and she struggles to get away from him, pushing at his chest until he lets her go. "Roni, stop this."

She backs away, shaking her head, and fights to keep the tears from falling. "Why are you being so _nice_ to me? Why aren't you punishing me, Daddy? I disobeyed. I talked back. No! I _yelled_ at you. _Twice!_ I called you by your name without permission. A-Any one of those things would normally get me a punishment. All three should _definitely_ warrant it. But you're _coddling_ me. If" -- she hiccups painfully, the tears starting to fall against her wishes as her anxiety ratchets higher -- "If you're going to leave me, just fucking do it. Just break this off now, don't pull this sweet shit to placate me before you cut and run. Just go if you're going to. Take your food and your shit and get the fuck out of my bar and my life. I don't need this and I don't need _you_."

He takes a step closer to her, but she moves backward, matching him step for step until she loses her footing against the edge of the area rug. Her arms pinwheel as she struggles to keep her balance, eyes wide with fear. She tenses and braces for a painful impact with the floor that never comes. Instead, strong arms wrap around her as she hears a crack and a grunt of pain. It jars her into a familiar, warm chest, her cheek landing over the rapid, but steady pounding of his heart, and the tears begin to fall in earnest. She shudders at the intensity of her emotions, fingers clutching at his shirt tightly, fearing that he'll leave the second she lets go. It takes a few moments to realize that the odd wailing she keeps thinking is sirens outside is actually her own hysterical cries. And beneath it all is the gentle rumbling of his voice soothing her in time with his heartbeat. She doesn't even register what he's saying, just that he's still here and still holding her. But the strain of fighting these feelings for so long, then letting them explode out is too much for her, and she lets unconsciousness steal her away from it all.

*****

She has no idea how long she's been out when she groggily returns to the land of the living. All she knows is that she's warm and comfortable and definitely not alone. Her eyes and throat burn and feel raw, and her entire body is just _exhausted_. The lure of falling back into the blackness of unconsciousness is strong and she's nearly succumbed to it when she hears his voice.

"I know you're awake, Roni." It's that gentle tone again, the one that terrified her earlier, and she feels her eyes _burn_ with the sting of new tears. "You don't have to say anything, but I want you to listen to me and really hear what I'm saying." She grips his shirt more tightly, belatedly realizing it's the soft cotton undershirt, not his dress shirt, and nods. "Good girl. You had me rather worried, you know. I've never seen you that upset before, and it made me realize I've been neglecting you. You regressed tonight, Roni, right before my eyes. That is unacceptable, and it's my fault for not seeing it sooner."

"D-Daddy, no," she whispers brokenly.

"Yes, it is. I've been so used to you being strong and sure of yourself that I've ignored the need to check in with you. You are a powerful and self-assured woman, yes, but no one is perfect and no one should suffer alone."

"But--"

"No, girl, let me finish, hmm?" When she nods, he rubs her back and continues. "Now I know that Victoria Belfrey's been coming down harder on you to get you to sell. I am so proud of you for standing up to her. You have become a beacon of hope to the people of Hyperion Heights. You care about them and you care about this neighborhood. That is something to be commended. But even leaders need the chance to step back and regroup from time to time, to bleed off their own stress and fear. And I haven't properly let you do that. I used to be better at seeing it coming. I got lazy and complacent in my own way and lost track of checking in with you."

"It's okay, Daddy."

"No, it's really not. How can I be a good Daddy if I can't even see when my girl is suffering in silence behind a wall of indifference and bravado? I've let you down and that needs to stop. You've been so strong, so stubborn about taking care of everything yourself that you've practically made yourself sick over it. And I missed the cues entirely. Of _course_ you blew up at me tonight. You've had no proper release valve for the pressure cooker in here" -- he taps at her temple, then at her chest -- "and in here. It got bad enough that you said my name. No, it wasn't your safe word, but it might as well have been. For pushing you to that point, I apologize and promise to do better from this point forward. It starts with no punishment for tonight."

"But--"

"No buts, girl. This is my decision to make. If you _truly_ feel you can't get past this point without some sort of punishment, I'll do it, but I don't think you deserve it." He cups her chin, tugging gently to get her to meet his gaze fearfully. "I'm not going anywhere, Roni, not unless you wish it. I would never disrespect you or hurt you by just walking out like that without trying to fix things, and I'm sorry if I made you feel that I might. That was irresponsible and unconscionable of me. You deserve so much better than that."

Roni shakes her head, and closes her eyes with a soft sob. "But I kept it from you. It's a lie by omission, and lies are punished."

He sighs and shifts slightly, which sends a jolt of fear coursing through her. It only dissipates slightly when he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. "If you're adamant about this, I'll punish you for the lie." She nods almost eagerly, relaxing against his chest. "But not tonight. We'll see how you feel in the morning and decide from there."

"But, Daddy--"

"Stop it," he says, putting the slightest hint of steel in his tone. "I will not add physical distress to your mental distress, no matter how much you think it will help you feel better."

"Yes, Sir," she whispers, a tear slipping down her cheek. She starts to speak again, but is cut off by a sudden yawn, flushing hotly. "I-- How long was I out?"

He shifts to look at the clock on the nightstand. "About three hours. Are you hungry at all? You never ended up getting your dinner."

Her eyes widen then. "Oh god, I ruined dinner! Daddy, I'm so sorry."

"You didn't ruin anything, Roni. I made you lasagna and a cheesecake with marionberries to go on top. Both will keep until you're ready to eat, as will the salad."

"Marionberries? You did that for me?" She shifts up to hug him tightly, trying to ignore the lightheaded sensation. "Thank you, Daddy!"

He chuckles and rubs his hand along her back again. "You're welcome, girl. You deserve to be treated and coddled sometimes, you know." She leans back, swaying slightly, and he frowns. "Roni? Are you all right?"

She shakes her head as she settles her head on his chest again. "Dizzy and nauseous all of a sudden."

"When was the last time you ate?" When she doesn't answer him immediately, he frowns. "Damn it, girl! If you have to think about it, it's been too long. And how many shots did you toss back tonight?" She mumbles something into his chest. "What was that? Speak up, girl."

"Three-quarters of a bottle over the course of the day."

"And you'd have finished it off if I hadn't shown up, right?"

"Yes, Sir." She sniffles. "I just-- I didn't know you'd be coming tonight. I would've…" Her eyes go distant for a moment before she blinks again. "No, I probably would've done the same thing even if I'd known you were coming."

"Your stress levels have been that high? What were your plans for tonight?"

"Long soak in the tub followed by pizza delivery and a six-pack while I watch the _Nightmare on Elm Street_ movies until I pass out."

"And you were going to wake up early enough to do your paperwork after that?"

She shrugs, blushing slightly. "Guess I didn't think it through." She feels a surge of panic as he starts to get up. "Wait! Where are you going?"

He smiles and strokes her cheek. "I'm just going to the kitchen to make you a plate of food. You need something nourishing in your belly and then you need more sleep. I'll be right back, I promise. Drink that bottle of water. I'll bring you another one."

"Yes, Daddy," she says with a soft smile as she grabs for the bottle. She works to drain the bottle in a series of swallows, eyes closing against the headache pounding against her skull. The visceral knowledge that she upset him still churns bile in her gut. She hates disappointing her Daddy, no matter what, and vows to work twice as hard to make it up to him.

"Sit up more, girl," he says, bringing her out of her thoughts. When she does as asked, he settles a tray across her lap, bearing a plate filled with lasagna and salad and another bottle of water. "I want you to eat all of this. You need to take better care of yourself when you're upset."

"Okay, Daddy." She attacks the food, moaning at the first bite. Swallowing, she watches him. "Aren't you eating?"

"I'm all right. I sampled while I was making dinner. It'll be fine. I'm more worried about you. You need to bleed off this stress and anger, and we're going to work on that together. First, you eat this meal tonight, then bedtime. I know you have sleeping aids. I want you to take one once you've eaten. I happen to have tomorrow off, so you won't be alone tonight or tomorrow. I'll help you with your ordering in the morning, and then you're done with the bar for the day."

"I can't walk away completely. This bar is my _life_."

He sighs and cups the back of her head, fingers weaving into her hair as he scratches her scalp. Her eyes close and she relaxes into his touch, taking the solace offered. Suddenly she shrieks with pain when his fingers tighten and yank on her hair. If asked later on, she won't be able to say how she keeps the tray of food from flying to the floor.

"You listen to me, girl," he growls, "and you listen good. This bar may bear your life's blood, sweat, and tears, but it is _not_ your sole reason for living. You are allowed to walk away for your own health without feeling guilty. In fact, I _demand_ that you walk away for one day to sort out your head and your heart. You are in serious danger of permanent harm, including losing this very bar, because your head is all screwed up with stress and anxiety."

His grip on her hair doesn't lessen, and tears fill her eyes as he jerks her head as he makes his points. It's not even the physical pain that brings her misery, though that does hurt; it's the fact that she's once again disappointing him.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispers. "I'll be good, I promise."

His grip on her hair eases, hands moving to cup her face as he kisses her forehead again. "I know you will be, girl. You are the most stubborn woman I've ever known, especially in situations like this." He kisses each cheek. "But when you use it for good, to be a better person or to help out this community and its people who need it, I am bursting with pride. I hate that you come down on yourself so hard and hold yourself to such unattainably high standards." His lips press to hers briefly. "I want you to promise me right here and now that you will trust me to help you get past this anger you're feeling. Can you do that for your Daddy, girl?"

She whimpers softly, eyes drifting shut, and licks her lips before nodding. "I promise, Daddy. I trust you."

"That's my good girl." His lips press to the tip of her nose this time, making her giggle softly. "That's the sound I like to hear. Now eat your dinner. Make your Daddy proud like I know you can."


End file.
